Mortality

Goodness - if you ever decide to hatch chicks, be prepared for some heartbreaking sights.

The reinventors were delighted when all six eggs hatched - four black chicks, one yellow and one grey with feathery feet.  They chirped and cheeped and followed Nancy about.  The reinventors bought starter crumble (the chick equivalent of baby food) and carefully placed bits of brick in shallow water bowls to the chicks wouldn't drown.

Then we found a lifeless twisted body out of the chook run.  It had squeezed out of the netting, and something larger had killed it.

So we reinforced the already reinforced the chook run.  Added extra wire netting, plugged up holes, added bricks where there was evidence of digging and scratching.

And then we caught the dog chewing up another chick. And then there was another mangled body.  There were tears.

There was more reinforcing.

Now we have one chick that seems to be blind.  Nancy is ignoring it, and it cheeps plaintively and falls over.  It's survived two days and a night with a bit of help, so it might keep going.

We're never hatching chicks again.  It's too brutal.